"My Dear Friend Schultz"
by Lein
Summary: When Schultz accidentally blows up Klinks office, he's sent to the Russian Front. Can Hogan and the boys convince Klink of their deep friendship to bring Schultz home?
1. Goodbye Schultz

**"MY DEAR FRIEND, SCHULTZ"**

By Lien 

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Chapter One 

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Col. Robert Hogan was not very happy.  The underground had just delivered a message to him: their main radio contact-an allied submarine-had been sunk, leaving them without their passage across the channel.  The underground also gave them their next mission, to blow up an ammo dump approximately 30 km north of camp, and something about a polish scientist that they needed to smuggle across would be getting there in about three or four days.  Hogan put the scientist towards the back of his head that could wait until the man got there.  The ammo dump was more of a concern.  Blowing up ammo dumps was typically an easy job; unfortunately, they didn't have a way to arrange for someone to bring explosives into camp.  Still, the on-base munitions warehouse was easy enough to break into, considering where they were: Luft-stalag 13.

Hogan realized that he didn't need too many, if any explosives at all, since ammo contained gunpowder, which was explosive.  A nice fuse to set it all off was hard to find, though, and to get one that would suit his purposes, he would have to get something out of Klink.  On the way, he saw Sgt. Hans Schultz the fat guard who was mostly aware of what the prisoners were really up to, but he was really a pacifist with a love of strudel, as well as a nice guy to boot, he was easily manipulated into looking the other way after six months worth of persuasion and bribes.

"Hey Schultz, how's it going?"

"Bad.  Commandant Klink is in a bad mood again."

"Any ideas why?"

" Colonel, you should know by now that the Big Shot never tells me anything!"

"OK, Schultz.  Sure.  I'll just go pop in on him myself."

"I would NOT recommend that, Colonel Klink is REALLY getting violent with this one."

"Oh come on, how bad can it be?"

***

Fraulein Helga was finding out exactly how bad that Col. Klink's mood was.  The sound of screaming and flying books was the average indicator, and her headache indicated that it was one of the worst ones she had ever seen.  The Colonel had been at it for an hour now and was making so much noise that she almost expected the Gestapo to raid for Klink shouting something he shouldn't have, like a secret or something.  Therefore, she wasn't surprised when the door to the hut opened.

"Hi Helga.  Commandant available?" asked the calm and collected Col. Hogan.

"I wouldn't think so, he's in one of his states."

Hogan started nuzzling up to Helga.  "Any reason why?"

"Col. Hogan, please.  You think that a little nuzzle can get information out of me?"

"You're right."  Hogan started to kiss Helga on her neck and cheeks.

"Mmmmm.  Colonel Hogan, please.  This is the kind of thing that a girl can get shot for."

"Then we'll have to be careful, won't we?"  Hogan started to get even more physically romantic with Helga.

"Colonel, this is undignified for someone at your position."

"You're right, but war does strange things to some men."

"Especially you."

"Definitely me.  But down to business.  What's eating Klink?"

"Something in the mail.  Personal type letter, not something from the war department as usual.  It must have been something from someone distant, I couldn't recognize the handwriting."

"I'll go talk to him."

***

Col. Wilhelm Klink was in a perfectly good rage when he heard the knocking on the door.  "Go away!  I'm busy!"  He shouted, as he slumped down into his chair.  Hogan decided to walk in anyways.

"Too busy to hear our latest requests?"

"Denied."

"Isn't that a bit early for a decision?"

"Denied."

"Oh, what's wrong?  The iron Colonel being alloyed today?"

"Hogan, get out of my office."

"Yes, sir."  Said Hogan as he left.  *I wonder what's up with him* he though.

***

As Hogan entered the barracks, the usual suspects, aka the main players aka the central unit quickly gathered around him.

Newkirk quickly asked the obvious question: "So why's Klink in such a ruddy knot?"

Hogan gave the honest reply.  "I don't know.  All I know is that he got something in the mail.  What'd he get today?"

Sgt. Kinchloe gave the answer: "Our guy reading Klink's mail is out today-sick or something."

Hogan nodded.  The flu was in a strong force this year, and usually brought various people in their workforce out for a day or two.  Today, it happened to be their guy who read all of Klink's mail.  Because of this, they had no idea of what was eating Klink.  Still, they had an ammo dump to destroy.

Hogan turned to Sgt. Carter: "what do we have in way of explosives?"

The American man thought a bit and gave the data required: "about 1/4 kilo dynamite, 3 smoke bombs, a handful of fireworks, and 6 of Schultz's rifle clips."

Newkirk started doing a bit of number crunching.  "We ought to be able to put something usable together with that, col."

"Something usable, yes.  What we need, no.  That's nowhere near enough to get through the barrier to where the actual ammo is and where we'd have to plant the bomb is too far away.  What we need is more of a firebomb or something that can ignite the ammo that's there."

Carter instantly piped up: "we could build a tunnel.  It shouldn't take that long."

LeBeau smacked Carter upside on the head.  "Do you know how long it would take to tunnel 30 clicks?  It takes 2 days to tunnel across camp, and that's 500 meters!"

Hogan agreed.  "That would take almost 4 months to dig to.  We need this done fast.  The allies need to keep the artillery from shooting them down when they do bombing runs."

Newkirk added his 2 pence.  "Why not just blow up the guns?"

Hogan thought for a minute about the proposal and rejected it.  "They'd just ship the ammo somewhere else...somewhere else!  That's it!"  He snapped his fingers.  "We can take out the guns, and when the krauts are transferring the ammo, we can send the RAF {royal air force} on a bombing run."

Kinchloe ruined the moment.  "But we can't radio mama bear, remember?"

"Kinch, can the radio broadcast all the way on our own to London?"

"It can, but the connection'll be pretty bad.  About 1/3 of all transmissions will be lost."

Newkirk interjected a question: "Then how come we can pick up the BBC in crystal clearness?"

Hogan had the answer for that one.  "Because the transmission is reinforced through amplifying towers throughout Europe."

A brainstorm hit Kinch.  "Why don't we patch ourselves into a BBC transmitter, ten?"

Hogan accepted the plan, but added a warning.  "Just remember that the krauts will hear everything we transmit.  Remember to encode heavily."

"Yes, sir.  I'll get right on it."

This mission was looking like it was going to be a success after all.

***

The trek had been long ad dangerous.  It was bad enough trying to avoid civilization and having an irregular schedule, their next contact points were going to be hellish.  The first was a tavern in Hamilburg that was reported to be crawling with Gestapo agents on a nightly basis, and the next!  Oy!  The tavern, which was more a refuelling station than a real contact point was nothing.  The man had stopped on many like that before.  Unfortunately, after the tavern, he had to take a map and find the next point on his own.  Again, not a problem.  It was always better that underground members not meet each other so if they were captured, they could not recognize or identify their fellow resistance man.

As the man left the tavern, he could swear he was being set up but had to risk it.  He looked at the point on the map what his destination was.  Circled in red was a large prisoner of war camp!  If this were legitimate, it would be the greatest irony of the whole war!

***

LeBeau was still trying to figure it out.  He had been picked to escort the Polish Scientist into camp.  How come it always had to be him?  Why couldn't Newkirk or Kinch ever bring the escapees to camp?  He knew what would happen if Carter did it and could understand why that scenario would never happen: Carter would get lost on the way back to camp.  Making explosives, yes, he could do that.  Finding his way in the dark?  No.  While brooding, he saw the flashing light.  Two blinks.  Time to be the early welcome wagon.

***

The man sat facing the west and blinked his light.  "This is stupid!  I'm sitting out here flashing a beacon for them to come straight for me!" he thought.  He saw a figure in the shadows heading for him.  "They've found me!" he thought, and froze with panic.

"Professor Carlson?" asked a small French man.

"Yes, that's right.  Who are you?"

"Your underground contact.  Come on, I'll get you into the tunnel."

"Tunnel?"

"Yeah, you expect prisoners of war to just walk in and out of camp through the gate?"

"You mean you're a prisoner?"

"Sort of.  More like I'm stationed here.  Come on."

Come on.  The man had heard that many times.  He was brilliant, but not very mobile.  He followed, and after all he had seen, he wasn't really surprised to see the man open a tree trunk and hop down.  Sighing, he followed.

***

The tunnel wasn't really a tunnel-it was a series of tunnels!  They led all over underneath the forest, and the men!  Oy!  Allied soldiers everywhere working on various things, yet still scattered about.  Mostly enlisted men, none of them above sergeant.  Also, mostly American, with a few British, French, and the very rare Soviet working also.

"You're Prisoners?!' asked the man again, in disbelief.

"Yep.  Home sweet home."

"If you have all these tunnels, why don't you just escape?"

"Because our duty is to help other POW's out of Germany and back to England."

"Oh, I see.  Are you the one in charge?"

"No, they wanted an officer for that."

"Ok.  When will I get to meet him?"

"Now."

***

Cpl. LeBeau took the professor a bit further into the tunnel.  An American man was waiting for them.

"Dr. Carlson, I presume?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"Col. Robert E. Hogan, U.S. Army Air Corps."

"This is incredible, a prison camp?  Operating as a head quarters for sabotage and espionage?

"Yeah," LeBeau said, rolling his eyes, "I've been here for four years, and I still don't believe it."

"LeBeau!"  Hogan warned.  "I've got more important questions, Doctor, like why are the krauts after you?"

"This," the man held up his brief case, "this is the reason I was get out of Germany!"  He unclipped the case, and inside were a row of five wine bottles."

"Wine?"  LeBeau asked confused.  "What's so special about that?   Is it the Fuhrer's personal collection?"

"Inside these bottles, is a new substance, called Gabou-Throim G!  It's a new type of fuel source I've been working on."

"A new fuel source?  Makes sense," Hogan said, rubbing his chin.

"However, It's still in its infancy stage," Carlson said, "It's highly unstable, any sudden motion, like someone shaking it up, could cause it to explode!"  Both Hogan, and LeBeau backed off.  "Don't be alarmed gentlemen, it also needs to be exposed to air, for the chemical reaction needed to make it explode."

"Well, that's a relief," Hogan said.

***

Sgt. Schultz was not having a good day.  A double shift for guard duty, Big Shot Klink's most recent rage, and now a staff car entering carrying a Big Shot General.  To make it worse, Col. Hogan was pressuring for information and starting to come again.

"Hey Schultz.  What's the bigwig doing here?"

"How should I know?  They never tell me anything."

Hogan started waving a chocolate bar in front of Schultz's face.  "Really?"

Schultz's eyes started following the candy bar with great interest.  "CHOCOLATE!"

"And it's all yours if you tell me why Burkhalter's here."

"Please, I see nothing, I hear nothing, I KNOW NOTH - ING!"

"Really?"  Hogan pulled out another candy bar.

"Very well.  Big Shot Klink just got turned down for another promotion."

"What a surprise.  Explains the happenings of yesterday."

"And he apparently called General Burkhalter to challenge the decision."

"Just like Klink.  Now he'll buckle under pressure and look like more of an idiot than usual."  Hogan sighed.  "Looks like I'll have to go bail him out."  Hogan said as he started walking away.

"Col. Hogan?"

"Yes?"

"The chocolate."

"Oh, right, here."  Hogan admitted as he handed Schultz the prize.

***

Hogan always had to be careful when raiding Klink's office when company called, so he stopped in the barracks to listen in on Klink and Burkhalter through their tap into his office.

"How is our boy doing?"

"Not so good, col." Said Newkirk.  "Listen for yourself."

***

"Klink, how long have you been a Colonel?"

"12 years herr general."

"12 years Klink.  And if not for me, you would still be a corporal!"

"Yes mein general."

"Klink, there is a place where men rise with rank very quickly, you know."

"Really?  Where?"

***

In the barracks, Newkirk couldn't contain himself: "As if we don't know where that would be."

***

"The Russian Front!  And unless you want to go there, I'd suggest you stop wasting my time."

"Yes mein general."

"Of course, there is one other way..."

"Yes?"

"My sister is coming to visit me in a few days.  I want her to be very happy while she's here.  You will take her out, you will show her a good time, and if things turn out, there could be a rise in rank through marriage."

"Yes herr General."

***

"Burkhalter's sister.  Yuck.  I almost feel sorry for Klink."

"I agree, LeBeau.  Maybe it's not so smart for me to go."

***

Schultz had watched, as Hogan had retreated back to the barracks after hearing news of Burkhalter's arrival.  Why was that?  Every time some big shot from Berlin, or wherever arrived, Hogan would always head back to the barracks, which meant only one thing.

Monkey business was afoot.

Wiggling his moustache from side to side, he quietly tiptoed over to the barracks, and gently opened the door.  No one was about.  Schultz's eyes widened.  Could they have escaped?  They wouldn't do that to him, would they?  He narrowed his eyes, they would.

Perhaps they were in Colonel Hogan's office?  He walked over to the door that lead to Hogan's room, and opened it.  

Like the barracks, it too, was empty.  It was then, that he spied the brief case lying on Hogan's desk.  Brief case?  Since when did prisoners of war need a brief case?  Maybe they needed one to pack their clothes for a trip.  Shrugging, he turned around to leave.

TRIP!  PACK CLOTHES!!  

He spun around and rushed back over to the brief case, and opened it.  Wine bottles.  No clothes, no maps of the surrounding area, just wine bottles.  Wine bottles?

Suddenly, there was a sliding sound in the room outside.  Schultz turned around, and saw half of Hogan's head, coming up from out of one of the bottom bunks.  His eyes bulged, as he quickly closed the brief case, then grabbing it, he quickly tip-toed over to the window, and pushed it open, he tossed the case out, then proceeded to climb out.  He would have been successful, had his mid-section not weighed more than his legs, the end result had Schultz tumbling head first out the window, and landing flat on his back.

Snowflakes fountain up around him as he fell.  He got up, and clutched his back, moaning.

"Hey," he heard Col. Hogan ask, "Who left the barracks door open?"  Schultz quickly remembered what he was doing, and reaching into Hogan's office, closed the windows.  Then, picking up the brief case, his back reminding him of the fall as he bent down to pick it up, he then hurried away.

***

"You were the last one in here, Col." Carter said, "Didn't you close it?"  Hogan narrowed his eyes, as he looked at the open door.

"Yes, you're right, Carter," he said, "I did close it when I came in."  Hogan looked suspiciously around the room.  His bedroom door was open.  Frowning, he hurried over to his office, his troops following as he went.  Nothing was disturbed in his room, his window was still closed.

He was about to leave, when he saw that his desk was empty.  No brief case.  "Uh-oh!"  He said.

"Uh-oh what, Col?"  Newkirk asked.

"Uh-oh, as in the brief case is missing."  Hogan said, walking over to the empty spot on his desk.

"You mean the brief case containing the unstable fuel?"  Kinch asked.  Hogan looked around the room.

"The very same."  

"Col." LeBeau said, "If they find out what's inside that, they'll…"

"…They'll be asking a whole lot of dangerous questions, we can't afford to answer, yeah I know!"  Hogan looked over at his window.  It was un-latched.  He walked over, and pushed it open.  No one was in sight.  He looked left, then looked right, and looked directly down.

The others all gathered around the window, looking down.  Right there below them, was a large crater in the snow-covered ground.

"That's too large to be human," Newkirk said.

"Schultz!"  They all answered at the same time.

"Come on," Hogan said, rushing for the exit, "We'd better get to him before he opens that stuff."

***

Klink was busy moping in his office, when Schultz barrelled in.  "Schultz, go away, I'm not in the mode."

"Herr, Commandant," Schultz said, holding up the brief case, "Look what I found in Col. Hogan's room!"

"A brief case?"  Klink said, "You barge on in here showing me an old leather brief case?  Hah!  I have seen better ones than that coming back from the Russian Front!"

"Herr Commandant," Schultz repeated, "Take a look what's inside it!"  Schultz carefully placed it on the desk, and opened the case.

"Wine?"  Klink said, getting up out of his chair, "How did the prisoners get a hold of wine?  I thought I confiscated all the Red Cross wine packages?"  Schultz looked up at him, confused.  Klink realised his mistake and hastily covered it up.  "Uhh, only for inspection purposes, you never know what's in that stuff?"

"Wine, Herr Commandant?"  Schultz said.

"Poison Schultz," Klink answered, "They could very well be trying to poison me!"

"Who wouldn't," Schultz mutter, Klink flashed him a deadly look.  "I mean, who wouldn't attempt to try and kill you, the prisoners I mean, Herr Commandant, I mean, you are the most ruthless and strict Commandant in all of Germany!"

Klink stood tall and proud, "Yes, I am the most ruthless commandant, aren't I?"  He suddenly leaned closer to Schultz, his proud image vanishing fast than a chocolate bar in Schultz's hands.  "You really think they would try and kill me, do you?"   He stuttered.

Schultz shock his head, "Oh no, herr Commandant, they would never do such a thing to you, you have them quivering in their boots, herr Commandant!"

Klink nodded, standing tall once again.  "Yes, I do, don't I!"  He started to walk around to the front of his desk, "I've always said, that discipline comes from the most dedicated of officers, and there's no one more dedicated to the 3rd Rich than me!"

"Oh no, herr Commandant," Schultz agreed.   "Umm, herr commandant?"  Schultz said looking down, "what shall I do with these?"  He picked up one of the bottles.

"I think I shall have to keep them here, and take a vigorous examination of these, to test if they are in fact poison."  Klink said, picking up one of the bottles.  He then tried to pull the stopper out of the bottle, but it was wedged tight.

"Oh, here, herr commandant," Schultz said, taking the bottle from him, "Let me do that for you!"

"Thankyou Schultz," Klink said, "You know, it's nice to have a trust worthy reliable friend like you around."  Schultz looked up, and beamed with pride, his right hand saluted, while his left went to his side.

"Why, thankyou herr commandant," he said.  

Just then, the door to Klink's office burst open, and Hogan barged in.

"Hogan, what do you want?"  Hogan spotted the wine bottle in Schultz's hands.

"Schultz!"  He cried.

"Huh?"  Schultz spun around to face Hogan, however, the bottle in his hand, smashed on the desk, spilling its contence onto the floor.

"Schultz!"  Klink cried out, "You blundering oaf!  Look what you've done!"  All three of them, looked down at the mess on the floor, "And right on my new carpet, too!"  Klink moaned.

"Umm, herr commandant?"  Schultz muttered, "dose wine normally bubble like that?"  They all looked down to see the green liquid on the floor, it was bubbling, and popping, and a slight haze was rising.

"I've never seen wine do that before?"  Klink said, rubbing his chin.

"Ummm, gentlemen?"  Hogan said, putting his arms around both Klink and Schultz, he stared leading them away from the mess on the floor.

"What is it Hogan?"  Hogan continued smiling, as he talked calmly.

"If I were you, I'd be leaping outta the window, right about now."

"What?"  Klink said.  Hogan didn't answer as he tightened his grip on both of them, and rushed the window.  Both Klink and Schultz cried out in alarm and fear, as the glass window gave way under the combined weight of all of them, and they tumbled out into Klink's garden.  

**KA – BOOOWWWWWWWAAAMMMMMM!!!!!!!**

Wood, and snow rained down on them, as they huddled on the ground, Hogan covering both of them.  Alarms suddenly began to wail all over the camp, followed by the shouted orders of guards, and the pounding of feet.

Hogan looked up, when the debris had stopped raining.  The top half of Klink's office was missing, and a thick black smoke was steadily rising towards the sky.  Klink was already getting to his feet.

"Call out the fire squa ---!"  He started shouting, only to be knocked flat again, by the fire hose that started spraying the building.  Klink coughed, and spluttered.  Schultz was already on his feet, looking up at the missing roof.

"Wow!"  He muttered, "That's some wine!"

"Maybe it was expired?"  Hogan chuckled.  Schultz chuckled too.

"SCHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULTZ!!!!!"  Schultz winced.

"That doesn't sound good."  He moaned.  The both of them turned around, to see a soaking wet, and steaming mad, Klink.  "Yes, herr commandant?"  Schultz answered in a small voice.

"Look at what you've done to my office!"  He screamed.    "How am I going to explain this to General Burkhalter?!?"

"Tell him it was an allied bomb!"  Hogan said.

"He won't believe that!"  Klink roared.  "Schultz, you Dumkopf!  This is the last straw!  In fact, this is the final straw!"

"Don't they mean the same thing, Commandant?"  Hogan asked.

"Shut up, Hogan!"  Klink snapped.  He then turned back to Schultz.  "You've humiliated me for the last time!  I'm going to make sure you won't get another chance to kill me again!"

"You're going to demote me, herr commandant?"  Schultz stammered.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"  Klink said, his mode lighting up.  "I'm going to do something else."  He smiled evilly.  "I'm giving you a transfer.  Do you remember that little request you made last week?"  Schultz's eyes brighten up.

"You're going to transfer me to Paris?!"  He cried out happily.  Klink waved his finger in front of his face.

"You'll be getting a transfer all right," Klink said, then lowering his voice to a snarl, "But you'll be heading in the opposite direction!"  Both Hogan and Schultz looked shocked.

"You don't mean..."  Hogan cried out.

  
"Oh I do, my dear Hogan," Klink said.  "As of this time tomorrow, Sergeant Hans Schultz will be heading for the Russian Front!"  And with that, he did a 180-degree spin, and stormed off.


	2. The Men in Black

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Chapter Two 

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Hogan still smelled horribly of smoke, as he staggered into the barracks; the group gathered around him.

"I take it you were too late, Col?"  Kinch asked.  Hogan nodded, as he dropped down but the tables.

"Yeah, I blew it," he grumbled, "I shocked Schultz, and he smashed a bottle.  That set of the rest, and well, you guys saw the results for your selves."

"Yeah," LeBeau said, "Carlson wasn't kidding when he said that stuff was highly unstable."

"So, what 'appened next?"  Newkirk asked.

"Schultz got the blame, and now because of me, he's being sent to the Russian front!"

"Schultz?!?"  They all cried out.

"Our Schultz is being sent to the Russian front?!"  Newkrik said.

"Is there any other Russian front?"  Kinch asked rolling his eyes.

"I think they have one in the Ukraine," Carter said.  LeBeau smacked him on the head, while the rest just moaned. 

"Hey," Hogan said, "We've got more pressing matter's to attend to at the moment, like how are we going to reverse Klink's decision?"

"Well, that will depend on how mad he was went he sent Schultz packing," Kinch replied.

"He looked pretty steamed, worse then when his promotion was turned down."  

Newkirk whistled.  "In the words of my Australian cousins, Colonel, you haven't got a hope in hell."

"Well, we'd better find one, if we want to save Schultz."

"Maybe, the replacement Sgt. won't be so strict?"  Carter suggested.

"And maybe he will," Hogan said, "So what if we get a new kraut in here, how loyal to us has Schultz been?"  The others shrugged.  "How many times have we gone through, were Schultz could have turned us in, but he didn't?"  Nobody answered.  "We've saved Schultz from the Russian front many times before, we can do it again."

Just then, the barracks door was flung open, and Helga staggered in.  "Colonel Hogan!"  She cried out.  She had a wet rag to her forehead that was slightly bloody, and here and there on her clothes, were the tell tale cuts and burses.

"Helga?"  Hogan said, leading her over to their table, "What happened to you?"

"I was in the next room when Klink's office exploded.  Luckily I heard your suggestion to jump out the window, and I took cover just in time."  She looked down at herself, "However, I wasn't far away enough.  Good thing for me, we Germans can build such strong desks or I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"Helga, where's Schultz at this very moment?"

"Colonel Klink took him in a transport truck to see General Burkhalter, to arrange his transfer to the Russian front."

"Hmm, Klink's not wasting any time on this."

"Why didn't he just arrange it from his office?"  Carter asked.

"Because Schultz blew it to the eastern front, and if he's lucky, he might be able to return it to Klink and get his transfer cancelled," Hogan said sarcastically, before LeBeau could smack him again.

"So, what do we do, Colonel?"  Kinch asked.  Hogan sighed deeply.

"To be honest, Kinch, I have no idea."

***

Burkhalter stood just outside of what had once been Klink's office.  Despite the fact that the fire had been out for nearly six hours, the building was still bellowing the same thick black smoke which seemed to go on and on into the heavens.

"And you say that a bottle of wine, did that?"  Burkhalter muttered to Klink.

"It was a wine bottle," Klink said, "It was in a brief case with four other bottles, Schultz got it from Col. Hogan's room."

"Really!"  Burkhalter said, sliding his eyes towards Klink.  

"Now that you mention it, when Hogan came in, he seemed anxious about something.  When Schultz smashed the bottle, the wine started sizzling on the floor, and Col. Hogan pushed us both out the window.  If not for him, I wouldn't be standing here."

"So, Hogan knew what was inside that bottle?"

"Yes.  I haven't talked to him about that yet, I haven't had the chance."

"Sounds to me like Nitro-Glycerine," said Burkhalter, as he turned to face Klink.  "Tell me something Klink, that's if you can, how dose a prisoner of war, get his hands on Nitro-Glycerine?" 

"The corner store?"  Klink answered with a chuckle.

"Klink!"  Burkhalter screeched, "I'm being serious!"  Klink snapped to attention, as Burkhalter started slowly circling Klink.  "The prisoners were obviously planing an escape of some sort.  The way I see it, they paid of one of your guards to bring it in disguised as wine, while they use it as a diversion, and then make an escape."

"Yes, General Burkhalter," Klink agreed.

"There will be an investigation into this matter, to find out which guard gave them the Nitro-Glycerine, and were he got it from!"

"Yes, General Burkhalter," Klink agreed.  Burkhalter saluted, and so did Klink, as he turned and left.  "Uhh, General Burkhalter?"  Klink asked.

"What?"  Burkhalter mumbled.

"What are you going to do about my office?"

"What am 'I' going to do?" Burkhalter said, sounding shocked. 

"You are the head of all POW camps in Germany, this sort of thing is your responsibility!"  He chuckled slightly, before dropping of as Burkhalter's look turned sour.

"No, my dear Klink, this is your camp, it's your problem, not mine."  He said, sarcastically.

"But… but… General Burkhalter?" Klink stammered, "How am I going to get this fixed?  Where am I going to get the men and recourses to fix this building?"

"You have a whole camp of men doing absolutely nothing, you can use them, and as for the recourses," he smiled, that cool evil smile of his, "I think the necessary money can be taken out of the Camp petty cash fund."

"But… but… General Burkhalter?" Klink stammered, "I was saving that money for a trip to the alps next winter!"

"Then you'll have to go another time, but if your really desperate, there are plenty of booking openings in the resort by the Sea of Azov!"  Klink quickly quieten down.

With that, General Burkhalter turned around and headed towards his staff car, but paused when a different staff car pulled in.  The difference was that the new car was from the Gestapo.  Burkhalter decided to stay a while and see what the Men in Black wanted with the Col.

***

"Car's coming!" announced sgt. Carter, peeking into Hogan's office.

"Any idea who?"

"Looks like Gestapo."

"Right.  Tell Kinch, to go stand as close to them as possible.  I want to know what they're talking about."  

***

Burkhalter just rolled his eyes, as his ever-friendly Gestapo major got out.  "Major, I demand to know what's going on!"

"The Gestapo does not reveal information to just anyone who asks, Herr General."  Hochstetter snarled back.

"Major Hochstetter, tell me why you want to see colonel Klink at once!"

"Are you threatening an agent of the Gestapo?!?!?!?"

"Nonsense.  However, it is my business to know what is happening with the officers under my command, now matter how insignificant they are."

"Very good, general.  Come over here with me, and you can find out.  By the way, you didn't hear about the epidemic going around those who tend to be in disagreeance with the Gestapo, did you?"

"What epidemic would that be?"

"Scarlet Fever!'  Hochstetter snarled.  Then marched boldly over to Klink.  Neither of them noticed the black man standing over by the corner of the barracks, pointing a small listening device in their direction, holding a small black box, with an earpiece in his right ear.

"General Burkhalter!  Major!  How can I be of service?"

"Klink, the Gestapo always is in need of service, but not usually from you, thank goodness."  Klink frowned at that.  "Recently, during a major operation in central Poland, we were supposed to pick up a scientist who had the design of the newest alternate fuel source for the Rich.  However, he fled before we could arrive.  He is undoubtedly in the hands of the underground, who will send him off to London.  We do not want him going to London."

"I see, Herr major, that is a problem indeed, but where do I come in?"

"Shut up, Klink.  Some of our contacts have seen him in the area, and as it is known, the Gestapo never makes mistakes."

"Of course, Herr major.  Anything you need!"

"Just your prisoners, Klink."  Hochstetter said.

"My prisoners?"  Klink said, confused, "Why do you need them?"

"That!"  Hochstetter shouted, pointing towards the rising black smoke.  "The new substance is called Gabou-Throim G, it's still being perfected, and at its present stage, it's highly unstable.  When it experiences sharp sudden motion, and is exposed to air, it explodes.  The description of the chemical reaction that destroyed your office, matches with the reactions that cause Gabou-Throim G to explode!"

"But major," Klink said, in a laughing manner, "how could my prisoners get a hold of an unstable fuel source?"

"That's what I intend to find out, Klink!"  Hochstetter snarled, leaning closer to Klink.  Klink lost his charm, and nearly fell over.  Hochstetter then leaned back, and turned around to leave.  "In the meantime, nobody will leave this camp!"  

"Dose that include me, Herr Major?"  Burkhalter asked.  "Because if it dose, I will be forced to call my friend Himmler in Berlin, and…"

"General," Hochstetter hastily replied, "I did not mean for you to think that you were a suspect!"  

"I though everybody was a suspect to the Gestapo, Major," said Burkhalter.

"Everyone except you, Herr General," Hochstetter said, forcing a smile.  

"I hope so, for your sake, Major," Burkhalter snapped.  "But Major, if you make one slip up, I will see to it that you will be searching for rats in sewers of Leningrad!"  Hochstetter and General Burkhalter saluted each other.  Then, not bothering to salute Klink, the General and the Major left, leaving the Colonel alone.

***

"Great.  Just great!"  Hogan muttered.  Kinch had just returned, and told him the whole story.  "First we lose Schultz, and now we have a case of the black plague." 

"Oui, Col." LeBeau said, "What are we going to do now?"

"We need to get Carlson out of here, and that's going to difficult with the SS boys in town, not to mention that our one and only safety net is heading east for the winter."

"Don't forget that we've still gotta figure out a way to get 'Ol Klink to bring Schultzy home."  Newkrik reminded him."

"I hate to admit it, Col." Kinch said, "But I think we've dug ourselves too deep this time."

"Yes." 

"There's no way in heaven and hell it can be done," Newkirk said.

"Yes."

"We're kaput!"  LeBeau said.

"Yes."  Hogan replied.

"And here's how we're gonna do it!"  They all chorused at the same time. 

Hogan smiled.  "Am I getting that predictable?"  They all nodded.  "We've been in this war far too long.  But seriously, first things first.  We take care of Hochstetter, then we save our resident Barrage Balloon from frost bite!"

"How are we gonna get rid of Hochstetter, Col?"  Newkirk asked.

"Burkhalter, said that if he slips up just once, he'll be hunting rats in Leningrad, right?"

"Right."

"So we're going to give him a nice big rat to follow." 

***

"No.  NEVER.  I will not let myself be captured by the Gestapo!"  Hogan rubbed his eyes, and groaned.  Carlson was proving to be more stubborn than usual.

"Look professor, we're not asking you to give your self up to the Gestapo, we just want them to see you, recognise you, and the clothes you're wearing.  If not, they'll tear this place apart until they really do find you, and we'll be revealed and ruined."

"I thought you were going to get me to England!"

"We are.  However, we need a way to get the heat down on us."

"What will you do after I am spotted by those animals?"

"Simple.  They'll do what we expect them to do, chace you.  We already have our own plans as to how to distract them, but all you have to do, is be spotted, then run to us.  We'll move you back to our base, and with the Gestapo covering the town, that'll give us a chance to slip you away to the Underground."

"I refuse."

"You don't have a choice, you're going to have to trust me."

"I still do not like it."  Carlson snapped, "Remember Col. It's your fault they're after me, if you hadn't lost my brief case, none of this would be happening.

"Thankyou for reminding me," Hogan replied, "But I'm doing my best to get you out of this situation.  Now I'm sorry about your brief case, and getting you into this situation, but we don't have any other way."  

Carlson sighed heavily.  "What time is best for you?"

**SOUTHERN UKRAIN…**

The train had taken Schultz express all the way to Zaporozhye.  Big Shot Klink waisted no time after his office blew up.  That's what he got for being nice.  If only he'd kept his nose out of Hogan's business he wouldn't be in this mess.  If he ever got back, he'd let Hogan do what ever he wanted, from now on.

The train shuddered as it crossed the points into the city and the snow pilled up in big mounds of white across the window.  Around him the other passengers rose and shook the creases from their clothes.  To his left the young new-recruits with whom he had shared a compartment with, smiled their goodbyes to him; he stood up and help them with their duffle bags.  

There was a hiss of steam and the train pulled into the station.  Schultz opened the door, stepped down and looked around him.  German soldier were everywhere, getting onto the train, leaving, or meeting those who'd just gotten off.  Clutching his duffle bag, and his papers, he walked off to find a Sgt. Dieter Schmidt.

To his right, a short man – about the same size as Lebeau -- stood holding a sign that read, 'SCHULTZ, HANS.'

Schultz walked over to the man and tapped him on the shoulder.  The man had light blond hair.  He looked up at Schultz with disgust.  "What do you want, Fatso?"  He asked rather bluntly.

Schultz frond.  "My name is not Fatso, I am Sgt. Hans Schultz."  The man looked him up and down.

"Yeah, right," he sneered, "the man I'm looking for is supposed to be of top quality, the best the prison guards have to offer, that's what the report said, and you, my fat friend, don't fit that description."

"No, really," Schultz said, handing him his papers, "I am Sgt. Hans Schultz."

Schmidt grabbed the papers, and looked over them thoroughly.  His eyes widened, as he looked up from the papers, to Schultz, and back to the papers.  "You -- are Sgt. Schultz?!"  He stammered.  

Schultz struck a pose and smiled.  "The one and only, top of the line, prison guard."

He dropped the papers, and clutched his cheques in horror.  "God in Heaven," he cried out, "We truly are losing the war!"

***

"So, Hogan, we meet again!"  Hochstetter smiled.  He sat down in the chair, directly opposite Hogan.  Two SS men with machine guns flanked Hochstetter as they sat in the barracks.  Behind the SS men, was another man, doing something Hogan couldn't see.

"I guess this makes it, umm, what, the second time this month now, Major."  Hogan smiled back.

"Tell me, Hogan," Hochstetter replied through his teeth, "Why is it, when ever the words sabotage, and unexplained arise, the word that immediately follows, is Stalag 13!"

"That's two words, not one," Hogan said cheerfully.

"By all means, Hogan, make jokes while you can," He snarled, "you will need all the humour you can when I'm through with you!"

"You've been through we me many times before, Major," Hogan said cheerfully, "And I still come out smiling,"  

"May I remind you, Hogan, that we at the Gestapo always find results!  Always!"  He snarled, losing some of his good cheer.  "We'll tare this whole camp apart until we find the answers we're looking for!"

"You're wasting your time," Hogan said crossing his arms, "He isn't here."   

Hochstetter raised an eyebrow.  "He?"  He said, his smile returning, "I never said we were looking for anyone, Hogan."  Hogan looked nervous.

"Opps," he said.

"Do you know more than you're letting on, Hogan?"  Hochstetter asked.

"Hey," Hogan said defensively, "We don't have the professor's briefcase anymore!"

"Professor?!"  Hochstetter cried out, standing up, "Briefcase!?"  Hogan made a face and snapped his fingers.

"Dang!  I'm just saying all the wrong things!"  

Hochstetter walked right up to the Col. and leaned down towards him, almost touching his nose with his own.  "All right, Hogan, talk!  Where is he?"

"I won't talk, you'll never find Carlson."  Hochstetter grinned, and turned to the man behind the SS guys.  

"Did you get all that?"  The man nodded, he was sitting at by a recording device.  "Hogan, I have all that recorded.  I have the evidence I need to shoot you, and your men for assisting the enemy!"  He took out his pistol and pointed right at Hogan's head, "Now talk!"

Hogan gave Hochstetter a dirty look.  "All right, you've twisted my arm."  Hochstetter smiled, and put his gun away.  "A few days ago, this polish guy came around, looking for assistance.  We couldn't give him much help, however, because of our tough Commandant, it's impossible to escape, and so we were trying to get one guy out, to ruin his record, when Carlson showed up.  We then decided that this guy really did need help, so we gave him false passports, and documents, plus some change of clothes, and a map of the town.  We told him that he should take the next train out of town towards France, but he insisted on seeing someone in town first.  Sounded like someone he cared about, said he'd stay a few days, not to look suspicious, then he'd leave."

"Where in town is he?"  Hochstetter demanded.

"Don't know that entirely," Hogan said, "He said he'd be staying at the Hotel by the train station, in case he needed to make a hastily exit, but he never told us which room he was in."

Hochstetter quickly turned to the two SS men.  "Ready the squad at once, we're leaving immediately!"  The two men clicked their heels together and left, along with the recording man.  Hochstetter then turned around to face Hogan.  "Thankyou Hogan, you've finally given me the excuse I've always wanted."

"What excuse is that?

"The excuse to arrest, and shoot you for assisting the enemy!"  Hogan looked shocked.

"But you said that you were going to let me go, if I told you everything."  Hochstetter grinned, showing all his white teeth.

"You should know by now, Col. Hogan, never to trust the Gestapo!"  Then he turned around and marched out the door.  A few moments later, Carter, Newkirk, Kinch and Lebeau all entered the room.

"How did it go, Colonel?"  Carter asked.

"Let's just say that the rat is sniffing the cheese," Hogan said, "Newkirk, did you go and put your hands were they don't belong?"

Newkirk reached into his coat, and pulled out a small black record disk.  "Did you ever have any doubt in me, Colonel?"  He answered.  

"Yeah, Newkirk just hurried around the corner, bumped into Hochstetter's sound guy by accident, and switched the records."  Kinch said, patting him on the shoulder.

"What did you guys give him?  Hogan asked.

"One of your old records, sir."  Newkirk said.

"Right, Hochstetter is heading into town, are you guys ready?"  All four of them nodded.

"I made sure Hochstetter will be delayed," Carter said, holding up the knife.

"It'll take him a few minutes to replace all four tires, giving you guys a head start."  

"The underground is waiting with the truck, just a few miles down the road from the camp, they'll take us to town, and the rest is up to us."  Lebeau said.

"Our watches are all syncretised, sir."  Kinch said.

"Then let's get going."

"Pardon my asking, Colonel," Newkirk said, "But what are you going to be doing now?"

"I'm going to get Klink to bring Schultz home." 


	3. Freindship runs deep

/////////////////////////////////////////

Chapter Three 

/////////////////////////////////////////

Klink was busy talking with the architect when Hogan walked through the hole in Klink's office.  He leaned forward, and casually knocked on the charred wall.  "Commandant?"  He said.

"Go away, Hogan, can't you see I'm busy at this moment in time!"

"Too busy to hear our latest requests?"

"Denied."

"Isn't that a bit early for a decision?"

"Hogan," Klink said, turning around and walking over to him, "I went through this rutin with you a nearly a week ago.  Right now, I am in no mode to be made fun of, so before I cut all white bread rasions to you and your men, I suggest you leave!"

"What are you mad at this time," Hogan protested, "You sent Schultz away, didn't you?"

"Yes I did, but General Burkhalter says that I must use my own camps funds to rebuild my office, not to mention to replace everything that was blown up, not to mention all of the paper work that will require.  And as a result, I have to cancel my skying holiday for a second time now!  Ooohhh!"  He stamped his foot in frustration.  "This is all that fat idiot, Schultz's fault!  I hope he's completely miserable, were ever he is!"

***

Schultz's grin spread from ear, to ear, as the 26 year-old female Quartermaster measured his waistline.  She stood up, and looked at the number she had recorded, and shook her head.  Of to the side, Schmidt snickered.

"Well, baby," Schultz, grinned, puffing up his chest, "Whaddya think?"

"I think I find it hard to believe, Sgt. that anyone could consider you for combat duty, especially _here_!" 

"Well, _here_ I am!"  Schultz said, spreading his arm out in front of him.

"Down, boy," She said, walking into the next room, "I'm not going to live up to that stupid nickname for a fifteenth time!"

"Nickname?  Fifteenth time?"  Schultz asked Schmidt.

"That's Eva Spiegel," Schmidt said, leaning in close to whisper, "But everyone calls her Eva-34, for you know, the Russian T-34 tank."  

"Why's that?"

"Because every boyfriend she's had – all fourteen of them – have all died at the hands of a T-34 tank somehow or other."

"Oh," Schultz said, looking back at the door which Eva had disappeared into.

Schmidt smiled, and leaned closer to Schultz, "however, from what I've heard, she's a really great leg!"  They both snickered.

"I herd that!"  Eva called out, "You'd better not be there when I get back, Schmidt!"

"Uh-oh!"  Schmidt moaned, and quickly vanished.  He waited outside a five minutes, before Eva came out, a disappointing look on her face.

"Uhh, Schmidt," she said, "We have a problem."  Schmidt narrowed his eyes, and walked back into the room.  Schultz stood there, covered in head to toe with warm army clothing.  He wore a padded hat with earflaps under his snow-white helmet; he had a thick woollen scarf wrapped around his neck.  He had the army issued triple padded coat, with the white camo-jacket over that, he wore three pairs of long johns over his camo-pants, with the thickest biggest sized boots, Eva could find.  He was covered in head to toe, with ammunition belts.

"He looks well protected, and equipped," Schmidt said, eyeing him up and down.  "I don't get it, what's the problem?"  

"I can't move!"  Schultz's muffled reply came. 

***

I think you're being completely unfair with Sgt. Schultz, Commandant," Hogan protested.

"Unfair, am I Hogan?"  Klink said.  "With all that's been happening to me, he should consider himself lucky I didn't send him as _Private_ Schultz to the Russian Front."  

"I'm talking about being so unfair, after everything Schultz has done for you."

Klink gave him a long hard stare.  "Hogan, if I do that; then when the war is over, and if the Russian's haven't killed Schultz by then," he brought up his hands, as if strangling an invisible neck, "I will!"

"I'm talking about the deep friendship you have between each other," Hogan said.  Klink reared back.

"Friendship?!"  He cried out.  "Hogan, he almost killed me, trying to do me a favour, if that's because he's my friend, I don't want to know what to think about being his enemy!"

"That's the point, sir," Hogan said, "Schultz tried to do you a favour!  He was only trying to help you, make your life easier, and how do you reward him for it, you send him away!"  Klink held up his forefinger, and thumb, and pinched them together.

"And this is about how much I care, now Hogan, ether request something, or go away!"

"I request you bring back Sgt. Schultz from the Eastern Front."

"Request denied, thankyou Hogan for wasting my time, and have a miserable day, just like me!"  Then, he performed a quick slash like salute, and stormed off back to the architect.

Hogan walked out of the building, his mission hadn't gotten off to a promising start.  Klink was even more enraged about Schultz.  At this present rate, Hogan could probably convince Klink to bring back Schultz to stand before a firing squad.

No, if he was going to get Schultz back he would have to play on Klink's memories AND emotions.  But not right now, when Klink was fuming.  Later would be better.  But time wasn't something on Hogan's side, the longer Schultz stayed at the front, the more chances it gave the Russian's to do him in.

One thing was for sure; it would have to be done fast, and soon.

***

Carlson paced the floor of the hotel room like a caged animal.  Seconds seemed to drag themselves out like minutes.  He stop to throw his hands into the air, Uhh, he must have been crazy to agree to this plan in the first place.  He glanced at his watch.

3:03 pm.

They said they'd be there by 3:01.  Where the devil were they?  

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.  He rushed over to it.  "Doves fly south west for the winter."  He whispered, placing his ear to the door.

"And my what a love view."  Came an answer in a British accent, and he yanked open the door.

"You're late!"  He hissed.  Newkirk rolled his eyes.

"Oh, by two ruddy minutes?  Mates, let's go home, we've lost the war."

"Really?"  Carter said with surprise, "Oh well, it was fun while it lasted," he said turning around, and had not LeBeau grabbed him, he surly would have walked all the way back to camp to get his things.

"Look, we've still got a few more minutes to spear," Kinch said, "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Carlson said, "I must be mad to have agreed to this!"

"Hey, you know your job," LeBeau said, "And we know ours, and ours is more dangerous than yours, now quit your whining!"

"Hochstetter has just turned up at the rail station," Kinch said, looking out the window.

"Right," Newkirk said, heading for the door, "Let's get this cat and mouse game started."  They all headed for the door.

***

Major Hochstetter was not is the best of moods.  Someone had slashed all four of his tiers; most likely a prisoner, and he had an escaped scientist to capture.  But on a more positive note, he was finally going to get rid of Hogan.  If he even had his way, he might be able to send Klink to the Russian Front too.

First, they had to find the scientist.  They would search the train station first, before heading to the hotel.  Carlson could have very well just left, and if that had happened, Hochstetter was ready to call the next station and have him picked up.

Hochstetter's men covered all exits, and entrances, making sure they all had pictures of Carlson, as they flashed them around to passengers, and station staff.  After much searching, it was becoming obvious, that Carlson hadn't yet caught a train.

That meant he was still here, in the hotel.  "You two," Hochstetter said, to 2 'SS' men, as he left the station, "Come with me!"  They exited the station entrance, and started to cross the road.

Just then, from around the corner of the hotel, a man in a dark brown trench coat, wearing a light grey hat, and carrying a worn travel case stepped out.  He had his head down, but looked up as he went to cross the street.

Hochstetter did a double take.  It was Carlson.  Carlson also spotted Hochstetter, and froze.  "There he is!"  Hochstetter snarled to his men, "Halt!"  Hochstetter yelled out.  Carlson took two steps backward, and turned about and ran.

"I'll stop him, Herr Major," an SS man said, rasing his machine gun.

"No, you fool!"  Hochstetter said, pushing it back down, "We need him alive!"  He then turned around and pointed back at the feeling Carlson, "After him!"  Then they took of after Carlson.

Carlson ran around the corner of the building, and straight back into the hotel.  Before entering the building, he waved twice, to the man down the street, who waved back, then started running.

Hochstetter and his goons barrelled around the corner, and looked about.  "There he goes, Herr Major!"  One of the men shouted, pointing down the street.  A man in a dark brown trench coat, wearing a light grey hat, and clutching a worn travel case to his chest was running away, at least a kilometre ahead of them Hochstetter could only gape.

"How did he run so fast?"  He asked, "Come on, we can't let him get away!"  From inside the hotel entrance door, Carlson breathed a sigh of relief.  We went through the hotel to the back entrance, were a car was waiting for him, just as Hogan said it would.

"Professor Carlson?"  A man with a machine gun asked.  Carlson nodded.

"You must be the underground?"  The machine gun man nodded.

"Come," He said, opening a door, "We'll take you to France, and from there on, to England."  Carlson breathed a sigh of relief.  Everything had gone just like Hogan had said it would.  He could only pray everything would go according to plan for Hogan's men.

***

Kinch ran as fast as he could down the street, with Hochstetter fast on his heels.  Although he was a natural athlete, and could keep well ahead of them, it wasn't easy, running on icy streets, in a trench coat, and carrying a suitcase.   Carlson had gone along with the plan, and now, his part was over, and he was out of danger.  The rest was up to him, Carter, Lebeau, and Newkirk.

He ran until he felt like he was out of breathe, and finally, he saw it.  The next street he was supposed to take.  He quickly turned the corner, and ran into an ally.  There he leaned against the wall, and tried to catch his breath.

Hochstetter and his men were puffed, as they rounded the next street which Carlson had ran down.

"Major, I'm -- tired," one of the SS men complained.

"If we are tired -- Carlson must be -- too," Hochstetter puffed, "He's just a --- civilian --- not trained soldiers like us --- we'll get him for sure!"

They rounded the corner, and looked around.

"What!?!"  Further on down the street, running faster than Hochstetter, was Carlson.  He had the same hat, trench coat, and worn suitcase.  He was still a kilometre ahead of them, and sprinting like a marathon runner.

"Major--?!"  

"No rest for --- the weary!"  Hochstetter puffed, "Come one!"  Then stumbled down the road after Carlson.

Ahead of them, Newkirk ran.  He wasn't as fit as Kinch, but it was important that Kinch went first, to get that extra lead on Hochstetter while he was still fit to run.  Timing was important for this mission; he just barely had two minutes to meet up with Carter, who would take the next step.

But their main goal was succeeding; they were leading Hochstetter away from Carlson, and towards their true destination.  After much running, he reached his destination, the bridge over the river.  He quickly ran into an ally, and waited.

Hochstetter was stumbling when he got to the bridge.  He braced himself on his knees with his hands, as he tried to catch his breath.  The SS men were puffing too.  Hochstetter looked up as he gasped for breath --- and saw Carlson on the other side of the bridge, running away.

Hochstetter rolled his eyes, and waved his tired men on.

Carter ran as best as he could.  It wouldn't be long now, he'd meet up with LeBeau, and he would finish the job.  He looked over his shoulder to see if he was still being followed.  Sure enough, Hochstetter was somehow managing to keep up.  Good, he didn't want to lose him, not just yet.

He saw his marker, the 'T' junction, and stopped.  He looked behind him, to make sure that the Major saw which way he went.  He looked right, then left, then right again, and headed left, checking that Hochstetter saw his choice too. 

"This – man – is – incredible --!"  Hochstetter puffed, as he struggled to keep running.  He saw Carlson reach the 'T' junction, and look around, and then he decided to head left.  "Come – on --!"  He gasped to his men, as they trumped around the corner.

Ahead of them, not far down the street, they saw the top half of Carlson, climbing down a sewer hole.  He looked up and saw them, then grabbing his suitcase, jumped down into the sewer.  "Why – won't – he – just – giveup --?"  Hochstetter groaned.

From the shadows of the doorway, Carter watched as Hochstetter and his men climbed down the manhole into the sewers below.  Perfect.  Everything had gone according to plan.  He then started walking back the way he came; he'd have to meet up with Kinch and Newkrik, so they could get LeBeau, and finally, go home.

***

LeBeau made sure that Hochstetter spotted him, before climbing down into the sewers.  As he dropped down, he flashed his torch over on the very small pipe, on the far wall.  There it was.  He was just small enough to climb inside, and inch his way through to their rondayvo point.

He heard sounds from up above the manhole, and dived into the sewer pipe, and started inching his way through.  Hochstetter and his men would have been so tired from that long run, they wouldn't have noticed that Carlson looked a bit shorter than he normally did.

Hochstetter was so tired, he nearly lost his grip on the icy ladder, climbing down.  Once down, he took some time out to catch his breath.

"Where is – he?"  He puffed, looking around.  There were two pipes in the room.  A small one of the left, and a larger one on the right.

"Which one – is he – in, major?"  An SS man gasped.

"That one," Hochstetter panted out, pointing to the lager pipe.  "The other – is too small – for him," He stumbled over to the pipe, 'Come one!"  Then, one after the other, they all crawled through the pipe.

***

LeBeau was the last one to the rondayvo point, where the others were waiting for him.

"How did it go?"  Kinch asked.  LeBeau smiled.

"Just like the Colonel said it would," he replied, "Hochstetter and his goons are about to find out there's something much worse down in the sewers than rats."

They all laughed out loud, and started to _walk_ back to camp.

***

Hochstetter grumbled as he crawled along the sewer pipe.  He just kept his mind concentrated on all the nasty things he was going to do to Hogan, when he got back to camp.  That will be well worth what he was going through right about now.

"What's that smell?"  The SS man at the back asked.

"We're in a sewer," Hochstetter snarled back to him, "What did you expect?"  They continued crawling.

"Do you here that?"  The SS man in the middle asked.

"Here what?"  Hochstetter asked.

"That sound," the SS man said, "sounds like, like, rumbling?"  Hochstetter stopped and looked back at the SS man, then looked down at the pipe.  He could feel something, a vibration of some sort.  He looked around; the whole pipe was beginning to vibrate.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the SS man at the back said.  Hochstetter looked straight ahead.  Now he could here that rumbling sound.

"It's getting louder," the middle SS man said.  Hochstetter's eyes suddenly widened.

"Go back!  Go back!"  He screamed.  They all started to crawl in reverse; just as a tidal wave of brown water, came gushing down the pipe, and swept them all away.  They were carried along by the torrent, and finally, forced out the sewer gate with a wall of water, and fell, forty feet, into the river below.

Hochstetter screamed as he plunged head long into the water.  All three of them, broke the surface of the river at the same time, and coughed out the water.

"Disgusting!"  He spluttered.

"Major," one of the SS men asked, 

"What?"  Hochstetter coughed.

"What's _that_ smell?"   Hochstetter sniffed the air, he could smell it too.  Slowly, they all turned around, and saw the huge rusty sign.  'SEWER TREATMENT PLANT'

***

The boys were still laughing when they got back to camp, as they climbed out of the tunnel, and into the barracks, they saw Colonel Hogan sitting at the table, waiting for them.

"How did it go?"  Hogan asked.

"Like clockwork, sir," Newkirk replied, "And right about now, I believe Hochstetter is bathing in the town's sewer water."

"Yeah," Carter said, holding up his knife again, "I even managed to slash Hochstetter's tiers again."

"How did your end of the mission go, Col?"  Kinch asked.  Hogan shook his head.  

"Not so good."  He replied.  "Klink's in a worse mood than ever."

"I take it, Schultz isn't coming home anytime soon, then?"  Carter asked.

"So, what are we going to do then?"  LeBeau asked.  Hogan thought for a moment.

"Word going around is that Klink will be getting us to rebuild his office."

"So?"  Newkirk asked.

"So, we're going to make Klink miss his lovable Sgt. Schultz, by playing on both emotions and memories."

"So what do we do?"  Carter asked.

"Gather round, men," Hogan said, "We are about to enter the soap opera currit 

***

Sgt. Schmidt was becoming more and more annoyed with Schultz, with every passing minute.  The man was so fat, he couldn't even _walk_ through the snow, and he had to do some sort of slow waddle.  On the bright side, he'd be the perfect target for a sniper, and with a target that big, you could hit him without a scope.

Schultz had been posted with Schmidt on a heavy machinegun squad.  The other man with them, as a Corporal, Gunther Gruver, he was waiting for them with the army unit they were attached to.  Schmidt's job was to give Schultz some combat experience before they gave him a heavy machinegun squad of his own to command.

Experience?  Hah!  He would be lucky if Schultz didn't get him killed.  He swore under his breath.  What in the name of the Fuhrer did he do to deserve this?  
  


"Slow down!"  Schultz called out to him, "I can't keep up in this snow!"

"Keep your voice down, Schultz," Schmidt snapped back at him, "Unless you want a sniper to lower it for you, permanently!"  Schultz's eyes widened and he froze on the spot.  Schmidt swore loudly this time, "God in heaven, not again!"  He didn't care if a sniper heard him or not, they could come and put him out of his misery.

He trudged back over to Schultz, and pulled at his arm.  

"S-s-s-s-snipers?"  Schultz stammered.

"Yes," Schmidt said, "And if you don't hurry, they'll pick us of for sure!"  That got Schultz moving.  It took them about an hour to reach the front line camp, in a trip that should have only taken twenty minutes.  Schmidt was red with anger by the time they got there.  To make matters worse, Colonel Fritz Arenwald was not pleased.

"You were due here, forty minutes ago," the Colonel in charge snapped.

"Yes Colonel," Schmidt moaned.

"For that, you will not be having any white bread with your dinner tonight."

"Yes Colonel," Schmidt groaned, sneaking a deadly look at Schultz, who was still stumbling to catch up with him.

"See that it never happens again!"

"Yes Colonel," Schmidt moaned.  Then he left, leaving Schmidt alone.

"What was he so mad about?"  Schultz asked, as he finally caught up with Schmidt.  Schmidt shook with anger.  He turned around slowly to face Schultz, a forced smile on his face.

*Be nice, be nice* he told himself *That fat oaf could very well end up taking a bullet that could very well be meant for you*

"Nothing, Schultz!"  He said through his clenched teeth.  Then grabbing him roughly by the collar, he dragged him over to a tall skinny man with brown hair, and a full beard growth on his face.  The man was sitting on a snow covered ammunition box, busy smoking, when Schmidt walked over to him with Schultz still in his grasp.

"What is that?"  The man cried out in alarm when he saw Schultz stumbling behind Schmidt.

"Corporal Gruver," Schmidt said through his teeth, "Meet Sgt. Schultz!"  

Schultz waved the fingers on his right hand at Gruver.  "Hi!"  He said.  Gruver's jaw dropped open, and the cigarette fell from his lips to the snow below.

"God in Heaven," he muttered, "I'm going to die!"

***

All the men of the Stalag 13 stood at attention, as Klink marched up to them, cane under his arm, and a monachal perched on his eye.  

"As you know, Sgt. Schultz blew up my office," a few snickers echoed among the soldiers.  "However, General Burkhalter has told me, that labour needed to rebuild my office will have to come from the prisoners, so, as of now, you are all working for me, rebuilding my office!"

"The Geneva Convention prohibits the use of forced Labour, Commandant," Hogan called out, "Unless the workers are paid for their services."

Klink marched up to Hogan, and looked him square in the eyes.  "Hogan, if you quote one more line from the Geneva Convention, I'm going to find a copy, and shove it down your throat!"  He swung his fist at the air.  He turned back to the rest of the prisoners, "As for the rest of you, you will be divided up into four shifts, shift one will start work right away, shift two will take over from them in another four hours, and so and, so on, until Shift four will finish for the day.  Diiiiis-missssed!"  He saluted, and marched off. 

Hogan was not part of Shift one, so he decided to follow Klink.  He walked up to him, and tapped him on the shoulders.

"Hogan?"  Klink snapped spinning around, "Leave me alone!  I'm not in the mode for one of your childish games!"

"Commandant," Hogan said, "I just want to talk, that's all."

"Talk, or insult?"  Klink scoffed.

"I just want to know why you are so upset?  After all, you problems are my problems, too."

"It's my trip, Hogan," Klink said, throwing up his arms, "I love skiing, I love doing nothing but relaxing, and with the war on, I just want to get out of the office, and do something I enjoy!"

"Then why don't you ask for a transfer to the Russian Front?"

"I love skiing, not skiing and dodging bullets at the same time Hogan!"

"And is that any reason to take it out on Schultz?"

"Not this again, Hogan, if you came here to ask for Schultz's return, forget it, that fat oaf stays were he is!"

"I still find it hard to believe you would sent Schultz away like that, after everything he means to you."

"He means nothing to me, Hogan,"

  
"I don't believe it, after everything I've seen you two go through together."

"Like what?"

"Who was with you on your trip to Paris that time?"  A hand went up to Klink's forehead.

"Oh please, Hogan, I don't need to be reminded of that disaster," his eyes widened, "Or that Russian woman again!"

"Speaking of Marya, who was always there to protect you, when she was around, huh?"

"Schultz."

"That's right, Commandant, Schultz was there, when no one else was!"

"Hogan, if you are trying to play on my emotions to get me to bring Schultz back, it isn't working."

"I'm not, Commandant, I'm just reminding you, everything Schultz has done for you!  What did he get you for your birthday, three weeks ago?"

"My new wrist watch, of cause," Klink said, showing it of to Hogan.

"And what did you get him for his birthday."

"A very funny birthday card," Klink said with a chuckle, "Oh, Hogan, you should have seen it, it had this picture of FDR on it and he was saying…"

"I get the picture," Hogan said, "Commandant, Schultz got you a watch, and you gave him one lousy card?"

"So?"

"So, where's the thought in that?  After Schultz has done so much for you, and you've treated him like yesterdays garbage."

"That's because he is yesterdays garbage, Hogan."

"I can't believe you, Colonel Klink," Hogan said, "He gave you a watch, and you gave him a piece of cardboard with paint on it!  You know, Schultz was terribly upset about that!"  Then he turned around and walked off.

Klink stuck out his tongue after Hogan.  Hmph!  What did he know!  Klink turned around to continue with his walk.  Hogan, that ingrate, how dear he make fun of his gifts.  A lousy piece of cardboard with paint on it!?  Schultz had given him a watch.  The card had a very good joke on it.  A watch that was really expensive.  He thought it was a very good joke.

Klink paused in his tracks.  He pulled back his sleave, and look at the watch on his wrist, the watch Schultz had given him.  That was very kind, and decent of him, after everything he'd done to him.

Klink shook his head.  Hogan was trying to trick him.  Like he always did.  He wouldn't fall for it again.  He started walking back towards his own private quarters.  

Still, it was a nice watch.

From the shadows of the barracks corner, Hogan watched Klink.  He smiled, and nodded his head.

***

  
The heavy machinegun unit was situated under the overhanding branches of a tree, sheltering them from the falling snow, and giving them excellent cover.  Corporal Gruver, and Sgt. Schmidt were keeping a watchful eye out for enemy troops.  

"The attack will be coming soon," Gruver muttered, keeping his eyes forward the whole time, "I can here the machineguns!"

"That's not the machineguns of the Russians," Schmidt said, looking over his shoulder, "That's Schultz's teeth!"  Gruver turned around, to see Schultz beside the ammunition box, with his arms around his legs, his teeth chattering from the cold.

"I'm going to die," Gruver said turned back to the front.

"Not necessarily," Schmidt said with a smile.

"How so?"  Gruver asked.

"Well, if he freezes up like that, when can use him as cover."  Gruver smiled.

"That's the best idea I've heard yet!"  Just then the radio squawked.  Schmidt picked it up.

"Ja?"  He asked.  He nodded, and said his thanks, before hanging the phone up.

"What's up?"  Gruver asked.

"The Russians are on the move, they'll be here any minute now!"  Schmidt then turned around.  "Schultz?"  There was no reply.  "Schultz!"  Schultz looked over at him.

"Hmm?"  He asked.

"The Russians are coming, get ready to fight!"

"F-f-f-fight!?"  He stammered.

"Yes," Schmidt said annoyed, "You're going to see some action, and you're finally going to spill some blood!"

"B-b-b-b-b--!"  Schultz stammered, before his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fainted and fell over.

"Schultz!"  Schmidt shouted.  Bullets suddenly kicked up snow all around their concealed position.  Gruver squizzed the trigger, and the heavy machine began to bark, spitting fire, and bullets at the enemy.

"You've given away our position!"  Gruver snapped, swinging the muzzle of the gun this way and that.  Schmidt went to say something, but no words came out, suddenly, he lunged at Schultz, and started strangling him.  "Hey," Gruver called out, "Stop that!"

"I don't care if I get put before a firing squad!"  Schmidt yelled back, "I'm going to kill that fat Dumkopf right now!"

"No time for that!"  Gruver shouted, "The Russians are massing in this area, we have to pull back!"

"But the Colonel will kill us if we abandon our position here!"

"Would you rather him, or the Russians?"

"Point taken, let's get outta here!"

"What about Schultz?"

"What about him?"

"We just can't leave a fellow officer here, we'll be court-martialled, then hanged!"  

"Okay, but we'll have to leave the radio, and heavy machinegun behind, if we want to take Schultz."  They each grabbed one leg, and began hauling him away.  

***

Hogan was nailing up a plank that was to become part of the new wall, when Klink walked in. 

"Ahh, I see it's coming along nicely!"  He said, clapping his hands together.  

"Colonel Klink," Hogan said, "I must protest that…"

"Hogan," Klink said, "I know where I can find a nice big, fat copy of the Geneva Convention, and I know exactly were I'm going to stick it!"

"Fine," Hogan said, then turning around, looked at Klink's wrist, "Nice watch."  He said.

"Why thankyou, Hogan," Klink said, admiring it, "It was given to me by Sergeant… Sgt. Schultz stays at the Russian front, and that's final!"  Klink snapped.  "Now please, stop pestering me about Schultz!"

"Sure, can you imagine what it's like out there, poor Schultz is freezing his moustache of, while you're enjoying a nice warm glass of milk with heated blankets, and…"

"Hogan, I'm on to you and your mind games, so stop it!"

"Or else what?"  Hogan said.  "You'll send me to the Russian front?"  Klink waved a finger inches before Hogan's nose.

"Don't tempt me!"

"Fine," Hogan said, turning back to the wall, "But tell me this Commandant, who was the one who always brought you your glass of warm milk before bedtime?"

"Hogan, one more word out of you, and I will send you to the Russian Front, and you can warm your poor Sgt. Schultz up with a copy of the Geneva Convention!"

***

The Colonel paced up and down in front of Schmidt, Gruver, and Schultz.  Schultz stood in the middle, he looked like a wreck, his clothes were torn, his face had a few cuts and scratches, from were Gruver and Schmidt had dragged him across the rocky plane for revenge.

"That act of cowerdness cost us the battle, and four kilometres!"  He snapped.  He stopped in front of Schultz.  "Sgt. Are you all right?"  He asked.

"I feel tired," Schultz muttered.  The Colonel clamped both his hands on Schultz's shoulders.

"You look like you've been through a lot, Sgt. While these two look like new recruits!"  Both Gruver and Schmidt's eyes widened.

"But, Colonel…"

"Ach-tong!"  He snapped, and they stood up straight.  "Not only have you disgraced your uniform, but you also lost the heavy machine gun, and the radio pack!  Might I remind you, that this section is not always the first to receive new equipment!"

"Yes, Herr Colonel, but…"

"Ach-tong!"  He snapped, and they stood up straight.  "Sgt. Schultz has proven himself a hero in combat, despite his outward appearance," Both Schmidt, and Gruver's jaws dropped.  "Schultz, report at once to my tent, you can have dinner with me tonight," Schultz stumbled off, "And as for you two, you are hear by demoted to Corporal," he said to Schmidt, "and you, corporal, are now a private!"  Gruver's face wrinkled.

Then, he spun around, and left them alone.

"Let's kill him!"  Gruver snarled, slamming his fist into his open palm, and walking after Schultz.

"Wait," Schmidt said, grabbing a hold of his left arm, "If we kill him now, the Colonel will suspect us!"

"Then what do you have us do, then?"

"Wait until we are in combat again, and tell the Colonel he died a hero!"  Gruver grinned.

***

Klink kicked of his slippers, and slid happily into his nice warm bed sheets.  He turned on his night lamp, and picked up his favourite book.  The knock at the door heralded the arrival of his milk.

"Here you go, Herr Commandant!"  The corporal said, handing him the glass on a tray.  "Your warm milk!"

"Thankyou, Jager," Klink said as he took the glass, and drank from it.  "Oww," he cried out, placing the glass on his bedside table, "That's too hot!"

"Oh, my apologise, Herr Commandant," Jager said, "I'll get another glass for you."  Jager returned a few minutes later.

"Uggh," Klink groaned, as he tasted that glass, "It's too cold!" 

"Oh, my apologise again, Herr Commandant," Jager said, "I'll get another glass for you."

"Forget it!"  Klink said, "Just go back to your post."  Jager saluted, and left.  Klink moaned, great, no warm milk; he was going to have a miserable night!  Ohh, if only Schultz were here, he always made the perfect glass of warm milk, that just sat right when you were drifting of to sleep, and…

Klink made a sour face.

"This is all Hogan's fault!"  Klink hissed, "Him and his stupid mind games, he's got me thinking about nothing else but Schultz!"

Schultz was always there for him.  And he sent him away.

Klink swatted the air in front of him, and tried in vain to get to sleep.

***

Hogan was awoken by a knock at the door.

"Come in," he moaned groggily.  A man in a German uniform, with Corporal's stripes entered.

"Colonel, Hogan?" the guard said, "Colonel Klink wasn't to see you in his office, right away.

"Sure thing Schultz," Hogan muttered.

"My name is Jager, not Schultz," the man replied.

"Sorry," Hogan said, getting up.  

Klink's office was half finished, the walls had been replaced, and the rafter's for the roof were being installed.  Inside, was a brand new desk, radio, phone, picture of the Fuhrer, and record player.  Black plastic substituted as the new roof.

"You wanted to se me…"  Hogan dropped off.

Klink was a wreck.  His hair was all mattered, he had the five o'clock shadows, and his top button was undone.  "Look what you've done to me, Hogan," Klink said, "I couldn't get to sleep last night, and it's all because of you!"

"Me?"  Hogan questioned, what did I do?"

"You and your mind games," Klink snapped, "You got me so worked up about Sgt. Schultz, I couldn't get to sleep, all I could think about was my dear friend Schultz…"  Klink paused.  Had he just said that?

"Your dear, who?  Commandant?"  Hogan asked.

"Just a slip of the tongue Hogan," Klink warned, "Now Hogan, I warned you not to play your mind games with me, now you're..."

"KLINK!?!"  Klink stood up straight and tall, as Burkhalter screeched out his name.  Burkhalter slowly walked in, and looked Klink up and down.  "What in God's name happened to you?"

"Rough night."  Hogan said.

"Is your name Klink, Hogan?"  Burkhalter snapped.

"Rough night, sir!"  Klink repeated.  "If you don't mind me saying so, Herr General, but what are you doing back here, I thought you were leaving for Berlin?"

"Yes, I was," Burkhalter said, "But someone stole my staff car!"

"Stole you staff car?"  Klink asked shocked.  "What happened?"

"I went into a restaurant to have lunch, when I returned, it was gone!"

"You mean..."

"I had to walk all the way here!"  Burkhalter growled.   "And when I find who stole it, I'm going to…"

"Excuse me, Herr General," Helga said, as she came in."

"What?"

"I think your staff car just pulled up outside."

"What?!"  They all rushed outside, to see General Burkhalter's staff car pulling up.  The doors opened, and Major Hochstetter stepped out.  His uniform was wrinkled, and he stank.

"G-good morning, Herr General!"  Hochstetter stammered.  "I suppose you are wondering what I am doing with your staff car…"

"The thought did cross my mind," Burkhalter said calmly.

Well, you see, it's like this, Herr General," Hochstetter began, "I removed vital information on the whereabouts of Professor Carlson from Colonel Hogan,"

"Colonel Hogan?!"  Both Klink and Burkhalter said at the same time.  Hogan shrugged.

"I have no idea what he's talking about."

"Oh yes you do," Hochstetter snarled, walking right up to Hogan, "I have your confession right here!"  He pulled out the record."

"Major, what did you do in town yesterday?"  Burkhalter asked, pinching his nose from the smell that was coming from the Major.

"I chased Professor Carlson from the train station, and through the sewers!"

"Really!"  Burkhalter said.

"But he, uhhh, gave us the slip."  Hochstetter said in a small voice.

"Sounds to me, like wild goose chase," Hogan chirped.  Hochstetter growled.

"That's all very good, Major," Burkhalter said, "But that doesn't explain why you took my staff car!"

"Someone slashed all the tiers on my car again, and we needed to comb the city for Professor Carlson."

"Major," Burkhalter snapped, "Your story, is like you, it stinks!  Now, show me one solid piece of evidence that proves Carlson was in town, or I'll make good on my promise of shipping you off to Leningrad"

"Hogan told me so, he said they help Carlson to escape!"

"How could I help a scientist to escape, I'm a prisoner of war, remember!"

"Major!"  Burkhalter warned.

But -- but I have the evidence of Hogan's confession, right here!"  Hochstetter whined, pulling out the record.  "Here, I'll play it for you."  They all walked into Klink's office, and over to the record player, and put it on.

"Won't you come home, Billy Bailly!  Won't you come home!  I've missed you all, night, looooooong!"  The record sang.  Hochstetter practically turned white as a sheet.  Bukerhalter walked up slowly, and leaned over Hochstetter's shoulder.

"The train leaves tomorrow at seven am sharp!"

"Hey, Major!"  Hogan called out.  Hochstetter just groaned and turned around to face him.

"What?"

"Are you through with me yet?"  He asked, a broad grin plaster across his face. 

Hochstetter just made a face.  "Baaaaahh!"  He moaned weakly, and then stumbled out the door.

***

Klink walked back into his office, and slumped down in his chair, "Thank God that's over with!"  He cried out.

"Not quite, sir," Hogan said.

"What?"  

"Schultz."

"Hogan!"  Klink warned.  "I won't hesitate to put you on the same train as Hochstetter!"

"I did nothing, sir," Hogan said, "It your deep friendship of Schultz that's eating away at you!"

"Hogan, do you know how ridicules that sounds?"

"Go ahead, sir," Hogan said, "say what you want, you're just denying it."

Klink got up to say something, but stopped.  He slumped back into his chair.  "Hogan, get out of my office," he moaned.

Klink watched Hogan leave.  He was right.  He was denying it.  The facts were plain and simple, Schultz had always been there for him, no matter what, and how had he always rewarded him, buy calling him names, or threatening to send him east.

Klink seemed to have no particular love for Schultz, but his conscious ate away at him.  How could he be so nasty to Schultz after everything he'd done for him?  

He missed Schultz.  The way he would blunder in, the way he would ramble, the utter stupidity that made him laugh.  

The watch he'd given him for his birthday.

Klink looked over at the phone beside his desk.

***

"Here he comes," Schmidt said to Gruver.  Both men looked up from polishing the tank, to see a freshly uniformed Schultz heading their way.

"Remember the plan," Gruver said, "Be nice to him, gain his trust, and when we go into battle," he slammed his fist into his open palm.  They both chuckled.

"Hey guys," Schultz said, "Guess what?"

"The suspense is killing me," Schmidt said.

"I've been promoted to command our unit, and you guys will be serving under me, and we won't be split up.  Now we can be friends all the time!"

"Wonderful," Gruver said. 

"I never thought combat would be so exciting!"  Schultz exclaimed.  

"Schultz!"  Schultz turned and saluted, as the Colonel came up to him.

"Yes, Herr Colonel."

"Schultz, I have some bad news for you," He replied, "I just got a call from your old camp Commandant, it seems he's at a lose without your efficient skills, and wants you back!"

"Klink said that about me?"  

"I'll let you go, only if you want to," The Colonel replied.

"Well, if the Big Shot said that about me, maybe he really means it," Schultz said with a shrug, "Okay, I accept his offer."  The Colonel saluted Schultz.

"Goodbye, Schultz," he said, "You're the best Sgt. I've ever had!"  Schultz smiled, and turned around to Schmidt and Gruver, who were hugging themselves with glee.

"Guess what, guys,"

"We heard," Gruver said with a large smile.

"The best Sgt. he's ever had," Schultz struck a pose, "I guess I am the top of the line prison guard."

"My dear Sgt. Schultz," Schmidt said, "On a scale of scraping the bottom of the barrel, you rank just below a ten-year-old Hitler Youth, armed with the Chicken Pox!"

***

Hogan opened the door to Klink's office.  "You wanted to see me, sir?"  Hogan asked.

"Yes I did, Hogan," Klink said, "Guess what, I have some very good news for you!"

Hogan smiled.  "Old Bubble head finally shaved of his moustache?"  Klink nodded.

"Yes Hogan, Old Bubble head finally shave of his awww shuddup!"  He groaned, swiping the air in front of him.  "I've decided to grant your request, I'm bringing Sgt. Schultz back from the Russian Front."

"That's wonderful sir," Hogan said, a smile creeping onto his face, "When will he be coming back?"

"Two days from now," Klink said, "I'm going to meet him when he comes back into camp."

"Hey, Commandant?"  

"Yes, Hogan?"

"Might I suggest a little welcome home gift?"

TWO DAYS LATER… 

Klink rocked back and forth on his heels, as the transport truck pulled into the prison camp.  Schultz stepped down from the truck, and looked around happily.

"Schultz!"  Klink cried out happily, and ran to embrace Schultz, "Welcome home by dear friend!"  

"Dear friend, Herr Commandant?"  Schutlz asked, "I thought I was a fat Dumkopf?"

"Can't you take a little joke, Schultz," Klink said chuckling, 

"But I blew up your office?"

"Accidents do happen."

"But I thought I tried to kill you?"  
  


"Just a slip of the tongue!"

"But I thought that…"  
  


"Schultz!  Don't push your luck!"

"Yes, Herr Commandant."  Schultz said, saluting, Klink saluted, 

"Oh, Schultz, would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"  Klink asked.

"Me, Herr Commandant?"  Schultz asked.

"Yes," Klink said, "I've been a complete and utter jerk to you, Schultz, you at the front, it made me realise how much you mean to me, and well, you know it, and I know it, you're the only friend I have."

"Then I would be delighted to join you, Willy!"

"That's Comm,,, ahh all right, you can call me Willy, but on one condition!"  He dropped to his knees, "Please, make me a glass of warm milk, I haven't had a decent nights sleep in days!"

Schultz chuckled, "Okay, willy!"  Then turned around to leave.  "Oh, Herr Commandant?"  Klink turned around.

"Yes?"

"I missed you too!"  Klink smiled, then reached into his pocket.

"I almost forgot to give this to you, Schultz," he said, handing some papers to him.  "Colonel Hogan suggested this," Schultz flipped through them, and his eyes brightened.

"You're granting me a week long leave in Paris?"  He cried out happily!  "Herr Commandant, where did you get the money for this?"

"My savings for my winter holiday in the alps."  Klink said, waving the question away.  "That's for the lousy birthday card I gave you, Schultz."

"Lousy?"  Schultz said shocked, "I thought it was funny!"

"You did?"  Klink asked.

"Oh yes, Herr Commandant!  I didn't really think any present was necessary, after that.  Heh, that joke still makes me laugh."

Klink spun around, and looked directly at the barracks.

"HOOOOOOOOGAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!"  He screamed.

**THE END.**


End file.
